BEADMAIL No. 2
Retail Price: $60
Photo Credit: Anna Lova
He was tempted to stay in the cozy warm bed, hugged sweetly by the human child who loved him with all her heart. But there was a world to save. There is a mission that only he could accomplish. Reluctantly, he slid carefully and quietly from beneath the tender arm of the sleeping child. He dropped to the floor without a sound as his shadow reached the hidden compartment in the bedroom toybox. He withdrew his black mask and uniform from the secret alcove. Quickly he dressed and vanished into the night.
Legend said he was an assassin, a spy, a saboteur, an invisible ghost of silent and lethal attack. Folklore claimed that he could shapeshift into birds or any number of animals; he could divide himself into multiple bodies, control the elements of earth, wind, or fire; he could walk across water. He fought alone, unseen, uncredited, unknown, slipping in and out of impossible places like a trick of the light with unrepentant consequences.
Tonight he is to complete another mission, pursuing another target who never knew he was there, changing another destiny, and averting another disaster. He knew the stories told of his skills; he merely chuckled silently to himself as he ran his rough palm across the stitches on his head, gently brushing his false eye. He was not as invisible or invincible as the campfire legends said. Too many times, he had barely escaped with his stuffing. Too often, he returned home carrying the pieces to be sewn back together. His humans thought his damage came from a child's rough play and loving; no one ever knew of his nightly forays into danger.
Maybe one night, he might not return, but not tonight. He can't bear the thought of breaking her heart. Silently he limped with a healing left paw. Back into the child's bedroom with gear stowed and weapons in their secret compartment, he climbed wearily and gratefully back into bed. He burrowed under the dreaming child's arm again and sighed with contentment.
It is nice to be loved so completely by sweet innocence. It is good to be home.
